


Not Broken, Just Bent

by missjo



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjo/pseuds/missjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flippy wanted some Thomas messes up fic so I started this for her for her birthday and am just now posting it because I am awful. So here you have it, Flippy! In a 'verse where our boys get away from Downton and run a clockmaker's shop (I never said I were original), Jimmy decides to hire a shop boy and Thomas messes up royally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Broken, Just Bent

“Jimmy, please, I beg of you, open the door,” Thomas said, his hands pressed against the firm wood. The stony silence that came from the other side of it hit him straight in the chest. “Jimmy. Jimmy, please. I never meant--”

Thomas’s voice cut off with a desperate sob as he took a step back from the door. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Everything had gone wrong so quickly, it seemed.

Really, though, if he thought on it truly it had started a few months before.

That was when Jimmy had noticed his hair was thinning or greying, it was one or the other, and had a panic. Thomas had attempted to cajole him with kisses and sweet words. “You’re my golden boy,” he had murmured into his ear just when it seemed to be working. Jimmy had hissed and pushed him away. “Not so golden now,” he had spit out and then gone to sleep on the sofa.

Jimmy’s sofa tantrum had not lasted long but an underlying tension had remained even after he had wiggled back under the covers and into Thomas’s arms. It showed itself mainly in Jimmy’s increasingly crueler teasing towards Thomas. He was generally used to, and loved, Jimmy’s cutting remarks but that didn’t keep them from stinging.

Then they had decided to hire a boy to help run the shop. Or, rather, Jimmy had insisted upon it during an argument brought about by his thinly veiled worry over Thomas’s health. Thomas had given in. Then Jimmy had gone and hired a shop boy who was far too beautiful for anyone’s good.

The shop boy’s name was Jonathan -- “But y’can call me Jonny, Mr. Barrow,” he had told him with a quick dip of his head and a playful wink -- and he really was beautiful with tousled brown curls, sea green eyes, and delicate features highlighted by his smooth, pale skin.

Jonny was always sure to have a grin and a joke for Thomas whenever he found himself in the shop and he stuck near to him like glue. Thomas found the whole thing both endearing and flattering, he had to admit; it felt nice to have someone admiring him. Jimmy had done, once, but that was long ago. They were a team now, equals, so while he was sure Jimmy still admired him in little ways he had come to take that for granted. The admiration of someone young and beautiful like Jonny had made him feel special.

Jimmy, however, hadn’t found the shop boy nearly so amusing. His lip curled into a truly Jimmy-like expression of distaste at his jokes. More than once he’d made comments on the boy’s attachment to Thomas: “I think our Jonny is a little in love with  _Mr. Barrow_.” “Not likely, James.” “And why not? You’re quite the looker, y’know.” “Not an hour ago you were telling me I’m getting chubby.” “Mmm… but you wear it so well, Mr. Barrow. Now give us a kiss.”

Thomas had not taken any of it seriously. Not Jimmy’s jealousy and definitely not Jonny’s apparent interest in him. He had thought himself much too old for love’s dramatics and that had been his ultimate mistake. That was how he had managed to wreck everything.

The night before he had planned to work late. When Jonny had asked if he could stay as well -- “I just love watching you work on clocks, Mr. Barrow. Y’have a talent, you do, an’ I’d like to learn a bit if it’s not too much trouble” -- he had seen no reason to object.

It had seemed innocent enough until Jonny needed to lean in and get a closer look at the gears Thomas was working on. He had pressed his lithe body against his side and pressed one long-fingered hand against the small of his back. It had been so long since anyone other than Jimmy had touched him that such a simple touch had been intoxicating. He had frozen in place, unable to back away from it.

“Y’make me think the most impure thoughts, Mr. Barrow,” Jonny had murmured, lips pressed close to his ear. “I would say y’oughta feel ashamed but I’ve rather enjoyed them.”

Jonny had placed his other hand against his chest and then slowly dragged it lower. Thomas had turned his head in a vain attempt to tell him off. That was when Jonny had kissed him -- stood on his toes and pressed his warm mouth against Thomas’s own.

It had only been a second, perhaps two, before the door to the shop had slammed and jarred them apart. “What in the bloody hell is this?” Jimmy had roared and then proceeded to gape at them like a fish.

“Jimmy--”

Jimmy’s jaw had clinched. He had shook his head at Thomas before turning on his heel and running up the stairs that led to their flat. Thomas had untangled himself from Jonny, despite the boy’s useless protests, and chased after him only to find their bedroom door shut and locked.

And so, after a sleepless night spent on the sofa, Thomas found himself here. He pressed his forehead against the door and sighed. “Please, Jimmy,” he tried one last time. “Please open the door.”

To his surprise the door finally opened. Jimmy looked at him with red rimmed, heavily shadowed eyes. It was a kick to the gut, seeing Jimmy in such a state and knowing that he was responsible for it.

“Jimmy--”

Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow. Anger was emanating off of him in waves.

“I’m sorry--” Jimmy’s face grew stormy. “It’s not what it looked--” Jimmy clenched his jaw and clicked his teeth. “I didn’t mean--” Jimmy rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Don’t give me that rot, Thomas,” Jimmy spat.

Thomas blinked at him.

“Did it feel nice? Having someone young and beautiful fancy you? Couldn’t resist, could ya? You’re pathetic. You’re old an'  _pathetic_.”

Thomas winced.

“Nice full head o’ hair, young and fit, I know how you like ‘em, Thomas Barrow. Your ‘golden boys’. I suppose you had to find a new one; I’ve passed my expiration date,” Jimmy continued, his voice cracking.

“Jimmy, no.  _No_.” Thomas’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his chest. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t know--”

Jimmy scoffed again. “You know the game, Thomas, you knew exactly what he were doin’ and you went on lettin’ him. You liked it. Make you feel young, did it?”

Thomas lowered his eyes and shook his head. “No. Made me feel a fool.”

Jimmy snorted. “Well that makes two of us.”

Thomas looked up through his fringe at Jimmy and was alarmed to find tears in those stormy blue eyes.

“Jimmy, I… I know there’s nothing I can say to make this all go away and if you hate me forever then I suppose I deserve that. But I love  _you_ , only you, not some silly shop boy lookin’ for god knows what. If you could-- could find a way to forgive me--”

“For bein’ a fool? I do that every day, Thomas,” Jimmy said in an exhausted tone but Thomas thought he detected just a hint of humor in his words. Hope fluttered in his chest. He pushed it down.

“Of course you do.”

They stood in silence for a moment that seemed likely to stretch out into eternity.

“You are a vain, stupid old man.” Thomas winced, waiting for the blow. “But I don’t think I have it in me to hate you forever. You’ve ruined me. Turned me into a sad old sop.”

Thomas’s knees buckled in relief. He fell to them and pressed his face into the comforting warmth of Jimmy’s stomach. He heard the intake of Jimmy’s breath and felt the muscles go rigid under his touch.

Jimmy awkwardly ran his fingers through Thomas’s tousled hair. “I didn’t say all is forgiven, y’know,” he reminded him, his tone stiff.

“I know. But thank you,” Thomas mumbled and loosely wrapped his arms around his waist. Jimmy didn’t push him away. “Thank you.”

Jimmy scratched at the spot just behind Thomas’s ear and sighed softly. “Come to bed, then. We both look like we could use some sleep.”

Thomas looked up at him warily. “The shop--”

“Sod the bloody shop.” Jimmy’s face twisted into an expression of disgust.

Thomas had to admit he agreed with him there. He let Jimmy pull him to their bed and then down next to him on the mussed up sheets. The thought of his darling boy tossing and turning here last night because of his error made his chest feel tight.

For a moment they lay beside each other without touching. Then Jimmy let out a soft groan and mumbled something under his breath before rolling onto his side to pull Thomas into his arms.

The sheets were soft and Jimmy was warm. Comforted, Thomas tentatively wrapped his arms around Jimmy’s waist and pressed his hands flat against the planes of his back.

“I’m so sorry, love, I don’t know how I could have ever taken this --  _you_  -- for granted,” he mumbled into Jimmy’s shoulder. “You’re my whole world, Jimmy Kent, n’ I don’t know--”

“Shhh… sleep now,” Jimmy replied, his voice thick and scratchy with exhaustion. “I can tell you just how much of an idiot you are after. An’ I’ll warn you it’s quite a list.”

Thomas nodded and tucked himself against the sturdy warmth of Jimmy’s body. He pressed his nose into the curve of Jimmy’s neck and breathed in the familiar, wonderful scent of him. Wrapped up in each other as they were, it wasn't long before they both drifted off.


End file.
